Menu

Month: March 2014

They say that life is always easier, after you let yourself come undone. They say they’ll give you all that you want, and I’ll be waiting in the shadow of the sun. Seizing time no one has been before, close the curtains what are you waiting for? And I’ll be keeping secrets till I’m in the ground.

Changing colors makes you waste away, just paint your eyes with a vivid mind. Now you see what’s behind the lights, And I’ll be waiting in the shadow of the sun.

Finding treasures that has been on demise, building mountains in disguise, and I’ll be keeping secrets till I’m in the ground.

I’m in the shadow of the shadow of the sun, where I belong there’s something coming on. I’m in the shadow of the shadow of the sun, oh and I need you.

I’m in the shadow of the shadow of the sun, where I belong, there’s something coming on. No more waiting, times are changing, and there’s something coming on.

I got new glasses yesterday. I happen to be pretty much blind as a bat – near and far sighted in each eye, a different prescription for each. It’s insane that I’ve gone this long without specks. Got my reading ones last week and the all the time ones yesterday.

So I pick Taco up after work for our Wednesday workouts. I’m raving on and on about how I can’t stop looking at street signs and far away font because I can actually read the words.

“Oh my God, Taco. I can see so much better now, I—-aaaaaaaaand there’s [ex].”

Yup. Whilst raving about my new clear vision, I get a clear view of my ex driving by me.

It was weird.

I haven’t seen him since last May, when he almost ruined my birthday.

He showed up to the bar 10 minutes before closing.

Drunk.

And took me outside and called me pretty.

And then said how sad this was.

We stared at each other for the last 10 minutes. Hugged.

And then turned around and walked away in totally opposite directions.

I shit you not. That’s what happened.

Thanks bro. Happy Birthday to me.

Yesterday stung. Just a little. Just a tiny little pea pod of a little sting.

Not sure if that ever goes away.

It was just a reminder of what feeling something was like.

Every now and then I catch myself numb about love.

I like my boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong. He makes me smile. A lot.

And I am so happy with our little relationship.

But I still have this wall. This shield over me.

And it protects me so much that I know if anything were to happen to us, I would be bummed, but not broken.

I’m alive! For reals, yo. Have a quick time for a post. Because I’m Lara, and my life is full of craziness, why not add a super creepy stalker to the mix as well?

Back in 2012, when I first moved back in with my family, I had left my bedroom to go hang with my mom. I had JUST finished smoking a bowl so I was all relaxed and zenned out. A few minutes later, I went back up into my bedroom to find several missed calls, voicemails, and text messages from some odd number that I didn’t recognize. The text messages kept asking me if I wanted to sext, so that creeped me out at first. Then, I listened to the voicemails:

(breathes heavily for a few moments and then whispers) I’m touching my dick.

Um. Okay.

Voicemail Number 3:

Old Creepy Man:

(breathes heavily for a few moments and then whispers)Caaaaalll me backkkkk.

***

After trying to stop myself from throwing up because I was not only scared but HIGH and panicking, I went through my phone and called all my friends desperately asking them if they pranked me. Nothing. So, I ignored all of the messages and went on with my life. I think Taco actually called him at some point but nothing came of it.

Fast Forward To: Last Saturday.

I’m working out and all of a sudden, my phone starts buzzing.

TWO YEARS LATER, IT’S THAT SAME PHONE NUMBER.

I recognized the number because it had an odd area code and the digits were super easy to memorize. Not to mention, I listened to those creepy messages a bunch of times trying to figure out who it was.

So this time, I answer.

Me: Hello?

Creepy Old Man: HI!

Me: Who the hell is this?

Click.

I WAS NOT HAVING IT.

I called the phone number back and it rang until it reached voicemail. As I’m leaving him a voicemail that closely resembled the famous phone conversation from the movie, Taken, I receive a text message from Old Creepy Man.

Are you open minded? Be honest.

And then another.

HI.

After I hung up with his voicemail, I texted him back, calling him a loser and told him I was reporting the phone number.

Fast Forward To Saturday Night:

11 PM

I’m at the bar with my friends, drinking Patron on the rocks because I was saving calories and sugar without adding a mixer (Yes, I am THAT nutritionally crazy). I was obviously a little tipsy because I had been there for a few hours already AND MR OLD CREEPER MAN CALLS AGAIN.

So I answer.

Me: What the HELL do you want?

Creepy Old Man In His Old Fucking Creepy Voice: Why you gotta go and start problems with me?

Me: Are you fucking serious? You’ve been sexually harassing me for years!

Creepy Old Man In His Old Fucking Creepy Voice: You’ll never figure out who I am. I’m going to be a mystery forever.

Me: Don’t you worry, darling. I will know who you are soon enough.

Creepy Old Man In His Old Fucking Creepy Voice: Babble, Babble, Creepy Old Man Babble…I was drunk, guys. This is where I started getting paranoid and things got hazy. I ended up hanging up on him.

Needless to say, everyone around me at the bar thought I was psychotically yelling at my boyfriend or something. Which is fine. Can’t please everyone.

I went home later on, laid in my bed, drunk as all hell and freaked out most of the night. I got up twice to check all the locks in the house and just imagined what Creepy Old Man looked like.

I ended up googling his phone number and finding 4 other reports from girls around my area getting the same harassing phone calls for the last few years. They’ve reported it to the police and the police have done NOTHING about it. You know, because they’re gonna wait until I’m fucking kidnapped with duct tape across my mouth to do anything about it.

I blocked the phone number and filed a police report. The cop didn’t sound like he cared, really. But I MADE him care.

I was like, Are you gonna do anything about this? Because I want to press charges. And you can’t say this isn’t important because that’s how EVERY HORROR MOVIE AND EPISODE OF CRIMINAL MINDS STARTS.

Little does Mr. Old Creepy Man know, my best friend does skip traces, which means she has a national database where she can look up a number and give me a name and address.

I told the cop that and I let him know I would be calling him with the information because I was sure I would be figuring out who this guy was before they did. Yeah. I legit said that.

So, hopefully, I can figure out who this guy is. I just hope he’s not a predator or wanna-be-murder freshly graduated from Sociopath University. That WOULD be my luck though.